Monthly Archives: May 2001

Okay, I was gone upstate for a few days. going up for what I thought was going to be a raging weekend with hundreds of academy grads descending on the ghost town of Muncie, IN, and what instead turned out to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen.

I did get to hang out with shay, one of the coolest guys in the world-and one of my best friends of all time.

Sarah (whom I stayed with for 2 1/2 days) was a total fucking downer. She’s changed alot since winter break, and she’s not the same person at all as she was before she dropped out of college two years ago. She’s settled for an okay boyfriend (who is really good to her), a shitty job, a suitcase full of unrealizable dreams, and a general ability to gloss over how uninteresting and unfulfilling her life is. The chance that she’ll ever be what there was once the promise of in her maniacal laugh grows weaker by the day.

two nights ago (after hanging with shay in muncie) we looked up sarah’s & my old friend mollie beth. we hung out with her and her professional wrestler boyfriend, chris (who turned out to be really cool). and drank at this awesome bar called the Heorot. 60+ beers on tap and 150+ in bottles. amazing. and really, really fun. If you ever get a chance, have an “Old Crusteacean”- it’s a beer by this brewery in KY called Rogue. it doesn’t taste too horrible and it’s 18% alcohol. the shit straight fucks you up.

then I hung with Jed and Dan May and the crew for a day. really good to see dan and brian, and john (lookin’ good, sweet cheeks!) and the rest. It was good to drink with dan, something that always happens when we hang out.

In other news, John set up a hotornot account with a picture of me from Julie’s site, just to see how it’d do. 7.2 . Not bad. hotter than 68% of all guys on there.

The place is filling well tonight.
The hounds sniffing for love-
something to do – nothing at all.
We just sit and laugh
at cocaine eyes looking
for the other half
of the speedball.
Heroin is no good to us,
too crisp – muddy-
pristine – unclean.
We stalk and we pounce like
TIGERS ON MESCALINE.
Tear yourself away from the show,
come with us.
All your dreams are ours-
lies – lives – memories-
mysteries.
Now you’re messing with the
SNIPERS FROM MARS.
Booze – caffeine – nicotine.
Denim Demons in heat.
Three years ago we were you.
Today we’re the kids
your mother warned you about.
Now we’re dangerous and eloquent,
grinning like ringmasters gone mad.
We’re the best and the brightest
glowing like chrome in the dark
a lighter after the spark
But with knives in our pockets-
cellphones – car keys – pens.
We’ll rearrange your priorities
and cut off your loose ends.

I thank god you haven’t
named my generation yet.
That leaves us free.
We’re the first generation
already (by 25) lost
to drugs. More than Gen X
we don’t know what we want
or where it is.
So we keep moving
in search of something.
Raised in coffeeshops
living in bars.
Splitting the bottle-
yours and ours.
Motion blurs the fact
we have so little,
keeps us from noticing
that there was nothing
left for us
before we were born.
Still we do remarkably
with what little we have.
Making worlds
with our thoughts,
capitalizing on the time
we have left.
building
breaking
moving
wondering
spelling out our names
in the stars as we drive
across the country.
following
something
escaping
something
It will only get us
so far.
I’m sure any of us
would trade you
some of our youth
for some of your wealth
Just make an offer.
Not many of us can refuse.

On Sunday, Mediawatch brought you news of Charlton fans holding up placards pleading with their manager to stay. Unfortunately, one worried Addicks addict had misspelled the gaffer’s name as ‘Curbishly’ and the Sky Sports beamed his spelling error live to a smirking nation. Which was a shame.

Now it has emerged, rather spookily, that the shirt Charlton’s Swedish forward Matthias Svensson wore during that exact same game against Liverpool had Svenesson printed on the back.

This trip back home is my farewell tour. It’s the last home-stand before I become a permanent resident of LA. coming back has made me stare down all the things I’m leaving behind. I have to look them in the proverbial (or literal) eye, and say “I won’t be back for a long, long time. this is my last chance to stand in front of you and tell you how much you’ve meant to me throughout my life.”

the buzz
sitwells
my family
kisha
shay
sarah
home
manchester
aurora
cincinnati
life in indiana
everything I love about this place

been a long time since I’ve done anything with this, been busy. made a record setting dash across the country. la, vegas, denver in the space of 24 hours; omaha, des moines and chicago within the next 8. then a day in chi, one in indianapolis, and back to cincinnati. but no rest for the wicked, a couple days later to Louisville for a couple days, then back here. next week will be cincy to indy to muncie, IN, back to indy repeat 2x. then hopefully not long after, back to LA, via the southern route.

“one summer night I was drinkin’ with my dad.” -Rancid. Haven’t we all been there? goin’ back to see my dad in less than two weeks.

today I did nothing. I hate that. I have a lot of work to do for my architecture final project. what wound up happening was I woke up three hours late, went to work, where I was supposed to be @8, was told that there was nothing for me to do, so I went to the bank to see about a loan on a computer, found out all the info, then went to lunch with my boy dave. walked back to my place to pick up some books, then back to campus to sell them. got thirty bucks back. can’t complain. then davey and I got my car and took his recording gear to ground zero (our hangout and place of employment) to record. I think I laid down one short and simple guitar track for him before I was on my way. but the whole process took a couple hours (went to his place, jerked around there before we left)then I went and filled my tires and looked for a carwash. it came to nil. then I got a call from mark, picked him up, and went to his place, where I now sit writing this. and that’s all.